The Race
by ZeroGain
Summary: Zane needs to let off steam so he goes for a bike ride, but when a stranger shows up at the stop light, is a ride all he's in for? Post "I'll Be Seeing You".


**THE RACE**

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><p>There weren't very many stop lights in a little town called Eureka, but the few that existed were endlessly infuriating. In the place that idiot Fargo's office had trademarked "The Smartest Little Town in America™" you'd figure the resident eggheads could come up with a better traffic management system. Smart roads? Intelligent asphalt? The system was overly complex, prone to failure, and engineered and operated by a committee of all things; not to leave out the fact that the roads had served as an antennae and made zombies of half the town.<p>

This week was by far the worst in recent memory, one of the mini monsters from Tesla was testing her advanced traffic management theories. She was nine! The kid couldn't even reach gas pedals!

Zane Donovan continued to fume, stuck at the light on Euripides drive and Feynman Street, staring at the red light… waiting… He sat astride one of his few joys in this trumped up excuse for work release, an '08 Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10R, tuned for street racing. Painted gloss black with a metallic crimson fade on the front quarter, smart-leather seats with custom air flow cushions, it was fast, responsive, comfortable, and looked damned good.

Why wouldn't this light just change?

Just about the time he was preparing to run the damn light anyhow, he caught a flash of light in his right-hand mirror and did a double take as another rider pulled up on his right.

She was most definitely a she, dressed in tight fitting sport leathers, mostly in black but with white and bright red slashes highlighting her trim, sexy shape; and the way they clung to that butt… for just a moment he felt like praying. The helmet was tinted black, making it virtually impossible to see the face of the rider.

Her bike was something else too: a Honda CBR-1000RR, probably a 2010 model. It too was glossy black, but had carbon accent panels in an almost electric blue across the front, and a custom exhaust. It was almost as hot as the rider.

It was time to turn on the trademark Donovan charm. He flipped up his visor and grinned at her. "Hey babe, how about a ride?" She slowly turned toward him, but kept the visor down. Even so everything about her posture indicated a sort of outraged disbelief.

"What's the matter? Too much horsepower?" he asked, grinning.

She responded by revving her engine. The Honda's 999cc motor roared.

"You're on," he shouted over the roar, and gestured up to Penrose, the last light at the edge downtown. It led to one of the main routes out of town, and if they were lucky the law would be busy elsewhere. She nodded.

The light finally changed, and the two moved on toward the agreed starting line, each revving their bikes to demonstrate their power. At the light they held at the stop line, set and ready. Waiting… the cross light switched to yellow, both hunched over, tensing.

Ready…

Set…

Go!

Zane cranked on his accelerator, a thrill racing through his blood, but he knew immediately he'd made a mistake. Too much power! Her bike kicked back on the rear wheel a little, but it launched forward like a freakin' rocket. His rear wheel spun and smoked. Sure it looked good, smelled up the place, made some awesome smoke, but every millisecond of smoke was seconds off the lap time!

He desperately managed the accelerator, found his traction, and shot off after the woman-in-black.

The two bikes screamed out of Eureka. If all the demons in Hell were chasing after them, they wouldn't have caught either one. If all the angels in Heaven wanted a chance to play guardian, they'd have had to have forewarning.

The woods whipped by, the road twisted and dipped. Trees went from standing columns to a blur of green and brown. He pushed and pushed, racing for all he was worth, but the other rider was simply faster. He had cornering down, after all he'd been racing these roads for years, he knew every twist, every dip, but that Honda was a damned fast bike. Every time he thought he'd catch up to that sweet leather-clad rear end she put the hammer down in the straight-away and left him sucking exhaust.

Two miles out of town she pulled off onto Route 17, one of the service roads that went up into the hills around town. He exulted for just a moment, no one knew that road better than him, he'd win this now, hands down.

Except that he didn't.

Impossible as it seemed, this strange woman knew the curves like she'd driven them before, but he _knew_ he would have met her before out here if she had. What the hell?

He pushed hard, harder than he ever had on R17. It was a dangerous road to do this on. As the road moved up the hills it opened up onto open cliff sides and ravines, but also beautiful vistas of the surrounding territory, and occasionally stunning glimpses of Lake Archimedes.

About three quarters of the way to the end of the route he got the better of her. There was a twist just around a corner that overlooked the lake, and he hit it just right, snaking to the inside of her turn, and racing ahead. It was close, too close, like she expected him to take that move but had positioned wrong.

Summit Park was coming up fast, the end of R17, the end of the race. One more corner and the last straight away was ahead of them. Narrow and uphill, bridging the gap between two hills, it was a beautiful view, but his focus was the end of the race and keeping her in his rearview.

For one moment he thought he had it; he was twisting through the course, keeping her from getting a clear shot around him, and then—as if she'd done this with him before—she faked left and shot around his right, rocketing ahead on a thunderous roar from that engine.

Then it was done. They were at the park, a largely bare grassy hilltop with a parking lot and an old ranger's lookout station. No one else was there, but that was usual. The woman pulled up to the end of the parking lot, a position which put the setting sun at her back. Still astride her bike she turned to face him as he parked nearby, shaking his head.

He pulled off his helmet. "What the hell was that?"

He could swear she was laughing at him. "Seriously," he insisted, "that was amazing riding. Who are you?"

The woman sat back on her bike, and appeared to be considering him. He sighed. "You're gonna make me beg?" he asked. She nodded.

"Fine." He kicked the bike onto its stand and got off, walked around and kneeled on the parking lot, a jaunty smirk on his face. "You are a driving goddess. Please, reveal to me your secret identity that I may bask in your glory."

She started laughing half way through, and he almost stumbled on the words. Instead of finishing strong and charming, he felt like a fool. The tone of the voice was familiar, but _she_ never laughed. Never.

With a twist and flair, the mysterious rider pulled off her helmet. Immediately raven black hair spilled out and flared, caught in the wind coming over the hill. Piercing eyes met his, her lips curled in a smile. His mouth, if it could have, would have hit the floor.

"Jo?" he gurgled in disbelief. "Jo Lupo? You? When did _you_ get a bike? Hell, when did you learn to drive it like that?" He staggered to his feet, now at a loss for words.

"For me to know, for you to find out," she said. Her voice was a sweet saccharine of insincerity, and yet honey to his ears; ever since that kiss… "I believe I won, which means I get your bike."

His eyes bugged out. "What?" he demanded. "No! No way, not even close, I-"

"Shut up, Zane," she said, stepping closer, confident as you please. "I think I'll let you go on it this time. Next time is for pinks thought. This time I'll settle for a kiss."

He was still stunned when she closed up to him, firmly planting a kiss on him, thoroughly having her way with him, then stepping back. Her smile was radiant, her eyes flashed fire and humor. He stepped forward, but stopped at her hand on his chest.

She shook her head. "Nope, just a kiss."

"What- I- but…" he stopped as she turned and went back to the bike. She smirked at him one last time before tucking her hair back up and donning the helmet.

She turned on the bike, then turned to look at him. "You called me babe. Never do that again." She rode off the kickstand, revved the engine, and took off back down R17.

He rubbed his lips thoughtfully. "Hell, that wasn't even a second kiss! No 'babe' ever again? I can live with that!"

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><p><em><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't know, nor will I ever, own this wonderful world or its brilliant and lovable characters. I'm just thankful I get to play around in it._

_**Author's Notes:** I figured I'd throw some more Jo/Zane fluff together. They're fun to write for, and I know someone that really likes them. Here's hoping for more smiles, Sydnew, I hope you enjoy this one too. Thanks for the help picking out the bike, but I wanted the 999cc, not the 600ish one._

_I've technically placed this post season 4.0 and prior to season 4.5. I'm not really attached to canon in this, so you can call it AU if you want. I started it while waiting in line for a movie that turned out to be fun, but I think I enjoyed writing this more._

_If you all like my stuff, check out my other stories here on . I also started writing my own sci-fi story over on , you can find me here: fictionpress (dot) com/u/776651/ (replace the (dot) with a . )  
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_And now, "Liftoff" is in a week and a few days, I cannot wait for season 4.5! Laters!_


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